Letter to Young Kashmiris II

Dear Young Kashmiris,

That my last epistle (1 Jan 2018) was of some value to you, that it was able to convey a useful message, I continue my next letter. And this time let me guide your focus to something about which you might have already started thinking: who are we Kashmiris? From whence have we come from? And why are we called Kashmiris?

When we ask questions like these we mostly rely on history, or, to be specific, on historiography. Though some people confuse myth and history and accept whatever is said in mythical stories as historical truth. But I want you to have a scientific temper and look at these questions with an open mind. That is to say, not to take what is handed down to you as absolute truth. Because our identities i.e., we as Kashmiris or someone as French or Nigerian or Guatemalan, have complex histories, as what our identity today is was not how it always was, say, two thousand years ago. So, the fundamental idea is that our identity (as Kashmiris) is ‘constructed.’ And, it was constructed by us Kashmiris, but in dialogue with others (non-Kashmiris).

Let me give a simple example. Imagine there is a large family and it has two dozen members: grandfather and grandmother, and their children and their children’s children. Let’s call it the Camenzind family. If Camenzinds were living on an isolated island all alone, nobody would call them Camenzinds, because among themselves they were just brothers and sisters, fathers and mothers, and cousins. A daughter from this family would not call her father Mr. Camenzind, would she? Or, a son would not ask his mother, “Where are you going, Mrs. Camenzind?”, would he?

Exactly the same way, if we Kashmiris were living all alone in our beautiful landlocked Valley without ever having any contact with the outside world or different people, we wouldn’t be called Kashmiris. Because we didn’t need to have that name for us, as we already knew who we were through our common dialect. The point is our identity or ethnic name as Kashmiris was neither given to us by God nor did we take it voluntarily. Then, how we came to be called Kashmiris? You may ask. Precisely when we had our first contacts with the people who didn’t speak our language. And who were these different people? Nobody knows for sure.

However, what we know, in the light of the archeological discoveries, is that our ancestors first lived at higher places in south Kashmir, like Pahalgam, where a crude hand-ax and flakes were discovered by archeologists in 1969, believed to be from the Middle Pleistocene Age. Through a rough estimation, our earliest ancestors lived 7.8 lakh years ago. However, later, moving towards Karewas (plateaus) in central and north Kashmir, our ancestors established subterranean dwellings i.e., human settlements that were created underground. You might have already heard or read about Burzhom, the archeological site just 5 kilometers from the Shalimar Garden, or about Gofkral in Tral district, 40 kilometers from the Srinagar city. Such dwellings were first discovered in the late 1930’s by a team of foreign archeologists. Just last year, in March 2017, a team of archeologists from the Kashmir University discovered very significant pre-historic sites and objects, which are believed to be 5000 years old. These sites, all in north Kashmir, were found in Harwan (Sopore), Tregam (Kupwor), Turkpur (Bandipur), Vizer Kreeri (Baramullah/Varmul), and Yembarzalwore (Kupwor). As archeologist Ajmal Shah says, “These archaeological sites are having richest cultural material pertaining to the Northern Neolithic Culture of the subcontinent. If excavated, these sites will add a mine-full of information about Kashmir valley’s cultural heritage.”

Based on these settlements and objects, archeologists argue that during the Neolithic (new stone) Age, Kashmiris, primarily settled in north Kashmir, had contacts with the outside world through the old silk route which connected the Kashmir valley with Kashgar (Xinxiang in China) and Central Asia region. Most of our trade, commercial, and travel routes passed through the north—but since 1947, all these historical routes remain out of bounds for us.

At any rate, what we know so far is that we Kashmiris have a 5000-year-old civilization; we were born artisans who were “adept at weaving and intricate craftsmanship”; we bravely faced and adapted to adverse climate by creating underground dwellings; we innovated and made fine and advanced tools, like harvesters, spear-heads, spindle whorls, double-edged picks, copper arrowheads, celts and knife blades; we had international trade links with neighboring regions in China, India, and Afghanistan, selling and buying stuff like beads, pendants, and terracotta bangles. In short, we were a hardworking community of innovators and imaginative craftsmen, and relics of our craftsmanship are visible in many pockets of Kashmir even today.

Which religion we followed 5000 years ago? We were neither Hindus nor Buddhists nor Muslims. Probably, we were animists i.e., we believed in mystical powers of nature, or sun, moon, and sky, or inanimate objects, like trees, mountains, and rivers, or, as with Mongols, thunder and lightning—in the book A Little History of the World, which I recommended in my last letter, you will learn more about ancient beliefs of humans.

So, when exactly were Kashmiris called Kashmiris and how did we acquire our language, Koshur? Now this question might have popped up in your mind, right? Well, for such questions we rely on language experts, or, more specifically, on philology (“The branch of knowledge that deals with the structure, historical development, and relationships of a language or languages”). In my next letter, inshallah, I will try to answer this question. In the meantime, to learn more about our origins, you can read the first chapter (pp. 1-15) of Khalid Bashir Ahmad’s book Kashmir: Exposing the Myth Behind the Narrative (Sage: 2017).

Yours truly,

Muhammad Tahir


First published in Greater Kashmir on 15 January 2018: http://www.greaterkashmir.com/news/opinion/letter-to-young-kashmiris/272238.html


Letter to Young Kashmiris

Dear Young Kashmiris,

I was meaning to write you this letter for some time now, I have things to share, words to tell you. I understand the life-world you live now, I have passed it, not long time ago. The things I want to share are the things I wish someone had shared with me when I was as young as you. But that is past now. And you are the future.

Let me start with few dry statistics, so that you are familiar with the larger picture. You belong to the most educated generation in the modern history of Kashmir. You may ask what does that mean. Well, imagine Kashmir in the 1920s or 1930s, and imagine your father’s-father’s-father or your mother’s-mother’s-mother. What was their generation doing when they were as young as you? If you read our history you will know that, in 1911, there were hardly 5 high schools and around 172 primary schools in Kashmir, and less than 7 percent population was able to read or write. Out of 1000 people only 35 were literate during the 1930s. We had 4 million population (40 lac) then and yet only 19,455 people knew English. Most of the people were poor, they tilled land, and very few earned their livelihood through trade or government employment.

Today, most of you are in a far better position as compared to your father’s-father’s-father or your mother’s-mother’s-mother. In contrast to 5 high schools in 1911, we have over 800 high schools today, while around 9 lac students are enrolled in 11,000 government-run schools, over half a million of you (5.7 lac) are also studying in 2600 private schools—the current overall literacy rate in Kashmir is 63 percent. And you can see that while a lot of men and women still work in the agricultural sector, thousands of them also serve in the public service—in 2016, the total population of government employees in Jammu and Kashmir was 4.8 lac. You have around 40 colleges now, and you have even options to go outside of Kashmir to pursue your studies, something that yours—and mine—grand grandfather or grand grandmother could have never imagined.

I am sure you already knew much of what I just outlined, but sometimes it is important that we are aware of our privileges so that we may not take things for granted.

When I say young Kashmiris I have people in mind who must be currently in their 8th standard and above, and between ages 15 and 20. This is the formative period of one’s life i.e., it is during this age when a person starts to think about “the serious stuff,” and seeks answers. No matter how hard we try to seclude you in the world of fairy tales and keep you away from the true realties of the world this stage is inevitable. And it has arrived. You will begin to, or might have already begun to, ask yourselves questions like “How this world was created?” “Why are countries fighting wars?” “Why different people have different cultures?”, or, closer home, “Why were people protesting on streets in 2016?” All this is “the serious stuff” I am talking about, and I am sure there must be many more questions nagging your mind at this stage now, and surely not all will get satisfactory answers in your lifetime.

While you will get answers for your queries gradually, some things you will discover through experience and some by reading. Though by reading a person can also gain experience, for experience, however, you don’t need to read. Your father’s-father’s-father might not have had education but he could still be an expert in his work. But, he lived in a different era and you live in the age where without reading you end up losing many opportunities to realize your potentials. So: read, read, and read.

But what to read, you may ask. Well, let me give you a small list of readings which will help you and may resolve the puzzles in your mind. We can start with history, because you may want to know how the world civilization came about—one of the questions in the bundle of “the serious stuff.”

In 1935, Ernst Gombrich, a 26-year-old man from Vienna, wanted to write about the world history for young kids. He shared the idea with a publisher named Walter Neurath who liked it and asked him to finish the book within six weeks. A complete history book within just six weeks, that is around 42 days! A monumental task. But Gombrich took the challenge and finished the book on time. He read books in mornings and afternoons at his home and libraries, and set a tight schedule for writing: one chapter a day, every evening. Ultimately, the book came out in 1936 in German titled Eine kurze Weltgeschichte für junge Leser. Gombrich wanted to translate the book into English, so that it could reach wider audience around the world. But, he couldn’t finish the translation as he died in 2001 in his London home. However, the English version of the book was published four years later after Ernst Gombrich’s granddaughter Leonie Gombrich and his assistant Caroline Mustill finished the translation work. And the book, titled A Little History of the World, came out in 2005, and it became the bestselling book on world history for young and adult readers alike.

What could you expect from the book? In forty chapter, you will hear Gombrich’s story in a simple, accessible, and entertaining language. The book is not filled with dates which many people find boring, but it engages you in the story of our human civilisation. It covers our progress from the Caves to Machines to Wars to Art and Sciences. It also discusses the world religions, like Christianity, Islam, Judaism, Hinduism, Buddhism etc. It shows us how much we achieved and how much we also lost in this path of progress, how high we went in our achievement and how we failed due to our imperfection. This is the book, dear young Kashmiris, you should read, so that you can take in the grand sweep of human history, and develop, at this early but formative stage of your life, a healthy spirit of openness to ideas. Inshallah, I will return with another letter. Till then enjoy A Little History of the World.

Yours truly,

Muhammad Tahir 





First published in Greater Kashmir on 1 Jan 2018: http://www.greaterkashmir.com/news/opinion/letter-to-young-kashmiris/270734.html

The New Morning

In the cold night, stars talk in whispers and murmurs,

talk of wounded autumns, of youthful rebellious summers,

talk of silent deep winters and of elusive springs,

of those dreams of ours where freedom truly rings.


In February, the dawn didn’t see the light of the day;

The Moon had turned cold with melancholic thoughts,

her eyes dry like the sands of Baghdad,

Her face still as the ancient pillars of Cairo,

In her heart, stones burned hot like raging Gaza,

Her breath, a gasping Jhelum of Sopore,

Her possessions, all the blues of the Neelum,

Her dreams, deep and resilient as the Wullar’s heart.


And in that February dawn,

everything dissolves in one shared motion:

A numbing silent motion of wounded souls.


But then again, all the caravan goes on;

To live, ever aspiring to rift the densest fogs,

to find the choral mornings of Shiraz,

to tell wistful stars, cease streaming with grief,

and listen to the whispers at the gate of the new morning.




Pur-asraar Mohabatein

Aye, Jhelum, aye shahid-e-daryeena

Aye mourikh-e-behshit-e-gum-naseeb


Teri nazar se guzri hai har door ki fizayen

To bata ki dor-e-haazir ki kaifiyaat kya hai


Tere kinare dekhi hongay tumne

Jawano ki wo pur-asraar si toliyaan

Jo mehez sang-e-himayat ke aslah lekar

Ajnabi mujahidoon ke liye,

Aamad aate hai, purasrar safiino.n ki tarah

Un mujahidoon ke liye

Jo karvaan-e-justaju ke mehmaan bi hai,

Jo basar karte hai poshida safar-e-mukhtasar

Jinke nishan-e-hayat ahd-o-paimaan bi hai


Kya tumne bi sune hai un jawanoo

Ke larazte hasratoon ke bol

Harf-e-ah-o-gum ki mehfilain


Kya tumne bi dekhi hai

Un jawano ke sulagte dard ki chingariyan

Unki jurrat-e-aarizoo ki wusatein


Kya tumne bi kabhi mehsoos ki hai

Wafa se labreez unki mohabatein,

Wo mohabtein jo purasraar hai saari mohabatoon me.



10 December 2016

















Youth Protests in Kashmir

Since 2008, street protests in the Kashmir valley have become frequent. Over 250 protesters and bystanders, mostly young people, were killed in the last three civil uprisings—2008, 2010 and 2016. Many analysts argue that these post-2008 street protests in Kashmir mark a shift from the armed rebellion of the late 1980’s to youth-led civil agitations.  As Tariq Ali argued: “Now a new generation of Kashmiri youth is on the march. They fight like the Palestinians, with stones.

Many policy makers and journalists tend to view youth participation in anti-India protests as a symptom of the economic problem, such as high levels of unemployment. But by way of a counter-argument, it is also asked: why do school-going boys or girls take part in these protests? Or: why were 130 state employees listed by the police for participating in the 2016 summer protests, and twelve of them sacked?

Though India acknowledges the gravity of this unprecedented phenomenon of youth-led street protests, at the same time a certain policy of ‘denialism’ is adopted. The youth protests are projected as a manifestation of economic problems (like unemployment and underdevelopment) or Pakistan-sponsored agitations. Moreover, Kashmiri youth activists and protest participants are being portrayed, with the active help of compliant and sometimes frenzied electronic media, as “radicalised,” “misguided”, “alienated,” “agents of Pakistan,” “anti-nationals,” and “terrorists.” Through seemingly choreographed media performances on certain Indian news channels, these pejorative labels are repeated to discredit and criminalise the youth protests in Kashmir.

Some analysts and policymakers believe the Kashmiri youth are radicalised, and this is the cause of the protests. For example, in a May 2012 interview with the Indian newspaper Business Standard, the then Inspector General of Police (in Kashmir), Shiv Murari Sahai, said: “Our problem today is a radicalised youth bulge [in Kashmir]. Some 50 per cent of the population is between the ages of 13 and 25.”

Sahai is partially right. The youth bulge is a factor for political protests in Kashmir, given the region’s large youth population. As per the 2011 census, around 30 percent of the population of Kashmir was between 15-30 years of age. In the face of high unemployment, the youth bulge can potentially give rise to political violence. But unemployment alone is not enough to explain the protests. Regime type is also an important factor. Political violence can emerge among some cohorts of the youth in a situation where political repression is prevalent and democratic spaces are denied. Scholars like Henrik Urdal, however, argue that political violence is less likely in highly democratic and highly autocratic states than in semi-democratic or semi-autocratic ones.

Young people participate in activism or engage in political violence for many reasons. But generally, young people participate in larger numbers because they usually have fewer familial or professional responsibilities. American sociologist Douglas McAdam calls it “biographical availability” i.e., young people are unencumbered by obligations which adults usually face.

The above factors seem to coincide in Kashmir: a combination of a youth bulge and political repression. The state in the Kashmir Valley uses wide-ranging repressive methods to deal with anti-India dissent and protests, which includes pre-emptive detentions through laws such as the Public Safety Act, coercion, hard-policing, harassment, deliberate blinding of protestors and killings.  But despite the state using the coercive apparatus in good measure, protests haven’t died down. Kashmiri Muslim youths in the 1990’s were “angry but scared” but post-2008 they are “angry and fearless.” For example, despite the direct threat from the Indian army chief Bipin Rawat in Feb 2017 (and the subsequent fatal shootings at encounter sites), young Kashmiri protestors still helped armed rebels escape at least on 13 occasions by risking their lives.  This aspect of Kashmiri youth activism has baffled many analysts, most of whom see in it portents of a more worrying future.

As argued, the economic argument does not fully explain the political dissent in Kashmir nor does the radicalisation theory. One of the weaknesses of these arguments is that they do not seem to appreciate the political substance of the protests in Kashmir. By using the economic argument and the radicalisation theory as the sole determinants, they take the focus away from the political aspect of the Kashmir conflict.

Though economics does play a role in exacerbating the problem, we can better understand the youth protests in Kashmir by looking at political dimensions. In his 2013 article, academic Paul Staniland argues that the Indian policy in Kashmir suffers from what he calls paradox of normalcy: the Indian state desires to preserve the status quo in Kashmir and “articulates a goal of normalcy that it does not allow to come to fruition.” If the Indian state walks the talk on liberal democracy rhetoric in Kashmir, it would face the democratic challenges to the status quo from Kashmiris—the majority of whom prefer independence. Thus, India continues to manage and manipulate the existing political arrangements in Kashmir through a corrupt political elite and a large coercive machinery, which eventually leads to repression of popular aspirations through coercion and violence.

It is this paradoxical political environment in which youth participation in street protests must be located. The Kashmir youths’ dissent and protest have developed in response to the political culture that the state has maintained in Kashmir. And as long as the “paradox of normalcy” persists, political protests are likely to break out.

The question if this paradox can be resolved is a difficult one. The current dispensation in New Delhi looks at Kashmir through a particular ideological prism. The BJP is against Article 370, the only legal instrument which governs the relations between the Indian union and the state of Jammu and Kashmir. This Article was negotiated by the Kashmiri leadership in the early 1950’s to ensure substantial autonomy for the state. Muslims, who form the majority, would like to strengthen the autonomy, though many of them would like to eventually have an independent state of their own. For the moment, what India wants in Kashmir and what Kashmiris want seem to be unbridgeable, a scenario described by John Cockell (2000) as ‘structural paralysis.’

Muhammad Tahir is a doctoral researcher at Dublin City University, Ireland. His articles have appeared in The Japan Times, The Caravan, The Express Tribune, Kindle Magazine, and in newspapers and magazines in Kashmir. He tweets @TahirFiraz. Image credit: CC by Kashmir Violence/ Flickr


First published on IAPS: https://iapsdialogue.org/2017/07/24/youth-protests-in-kashmir/

Avoid Mob Takeover

Back in the late 2000’s, I read an interesting book by William Ury The Third Side(1999). An anthropologist and a negotiation expert, Ury provides many real life examples to show practical ways of intervening between warring parties, be it in a family or outside. As he says, ‘it takes two sides to fight, but a third to stop.’

At that time, the book gave me a good feeling because, on many occasions, I had played that ‘third side’ role. But it also made me realise that our society, by and large, had this innate feature which instinctively activate itself on occasions like road side quarrels to diffuse a situation from turning nasty. You would see people intervening, saying things like “hey ladai ma’sa kariv…”, “hey laayuss ma…”, “hey ye chui gatchan galath…”, “hey thayivsa wan…”, “hey kehn chuina…”.

Basically, these words have a potential effect to cool down the tempers. These interventions do work, most of the times, especially if the words come from an elder or a respectable person.

I used to think that because in our society people often volunteer to play the ‘third side,’ that may explain why we see less nasty fights in Kashmir. Over the time, however, I did read many headlines which made me skeptical about my initial assessment. Just recently I read: “Man kills brother over land dispute in Tral.”

The conflict related deaths and violent incidents were always there, but it was difficult to conceive of a ‘third side’ in that volatile political dynamic, other than the ‘international community.’

However, I do remember, during the highly charged period of 2010 unrest, a policeman found himself cornered in our street. Before enraged young men could thrash him, someone wrapped arms around the cop and took him inside a residential house. He was given water and assured of safety. During the same time, one fine morning, I saw how a middle aged man intervened and save a cab driver from being thrashed by soldiers. This man literary came in between the charging army man and the driver, shouting: “What is his fault?” Sensing possible protest, troops let the driver go.

As Ury says, there are many reasons why fights break out. It could be anger or fear; people may believe they are firmly in the right, or they might think they are stronger and will prevail in the fight. But, what was the cause of the fight near Jamia Masjid on Lailat-ul-Qadr, which eventually led death of the police officer? And most importantly, why didn’t any one play the ‘third side’? Or if anyone did, why couldn’t it stop the fight, or at least why couldn’t policeman’s life be saved? These are the questions which only an independent, impartial investigation can answer.

Elders say it was unprecedented in Kashmir. It received wide condemnation. “Deeply disturbed and condemn the brutal act at Nowhatta. Mob violence and public lynching is outside the parameters of our values and religion,” Mirwaiz Umar Farooq tweeted. “We cannot allow state brutality to snatch our humanity and values.”

But on social media, opinions were mixed. Some people threw accusations of ‘selective condemnation’ at those who showed outrage at this incident but “remained silent at the Kakapora killings” and many such cases? Some used this to blame the Azadi movement in general; Indian electronic media seized the moment to double-up its noise, painting whole Kashmiri society as barbaric, but conveniently ignoring the incidents of lynching which have been regularly happening in their own backyard.

Since this incident came on the heels of Kakapor encounter where three young Kashmiri rebels, Shakir (18), Irshad (17) and Majid (19), were killed and their bodies charred, a feeling of disgust, shock, and anger had already swept around.

But one thing should be made very clear: Ayub was beaten to death; it was barbaric, reprehensible and cannot be justified. A friend wrote on Facebook: “Even if he was an intelligence cop, he didn’t deserve a death like that.” It is not what we Kashmiris are known for, and this must never happen again.

I know like any good society Kashmiri community is also inherently generous and hospitable. We have demonstrated what is good in us time and again (e.g., 2014 floods) and many non-Kashmiris can vouch for that. We believe in helping each other, we believe in sharing things, celebrating and mourning together, and we believe in taking khabar of each other. These are our values and traditions and we cherish them.

Though details are still awaited, reports so far reveal that it was a mob which killed Ayub. This should alarm us. How come we let a mob kill somebody on an auspicious night? The circumstances in which Ayub was killed are complex. But we must be careful because given the tumultuous situation in Kashmir.

Social psychologists argue, in a crowd, people experience ‘deindividuation’ (i.e. loss of self-awareness). It happens in the highly excited state of being inside a crowd, and it leads to “anti-normative and dis-inhibited behaviour”, i.e. the normal restraint and inhibition weakens.

We need to reinforce our societal mechanism of ‘third side’ and not let ‘mob mentality’ get the better of us, whatever the circumstances. And, at the same time, we should not let others manipulate this incident to caricature us or diminish the justness of our political struggle.


First published in Kashmir Life on 19 July 2017: http://kashmirlife.net/avoid-mob-takeover-146211/

Decoding Barkha Dutt’s Understanding of Azadi Movement in Kashmir

On 6 June 2017, influential newspaper The Washington Post published an Indian journalist Barkha Dutt’s article “Why the world no longer cares about Kashmir.” The article generated quite a discussion on social media platforms where Dutt’s arguments were discussed, evaluated, and criticised. Here, I seek to critically evaluate her article. But instead of looking at her arguments per se my aim is to examine the discursive strategies that Dutt has used to construct her arguments. Specifically, I will analyse the central components of her overall framing of the Kashmiri freedom struggle.

Before getting started, here are brief, though limited, descriptions of some academic jargons which would be inevitably used for analytical purposes in this review:

Presupposition: shared or presupposed knowledge about something which is assumed to be true, known, or taken for granted. Ideologies are naturalised through presuppositions (for example, in the sentence “Our five thousand years old civilization has seen many turns,” it is presumed that the civilisation was really five thousand years old)

Predication:  ascribing attributes, qualities and features to people, phenomena or entities through use of adjectives, adverbs that modifies the subject (for example, the adjective/adverb radicalised in “radicalised young men are protesting”)

Mitigation and intensification: modification of language in a way that it either mitigates or intensifies illocutionary force of what is being said (for example, using vague expressions and euphemisms, or hyperboles and strong words, or quotations marks and indirect speech)

Argumentation: justifying or questioning a normative position or claims of truth (for example, “global warming has changed weather patterns and we need to tackle this problem”)

Nomination: linguistically naming or categorizing subjects, phenomena or entities (for example, “Bhaghat Singh, the terrorist who killed a British officer,” or “student protestors blocked the road”)

Taking these discursive strategies as a framework, now let’s see how Barkha Dutt frames the Azadi movement in Kashmir in her Washington Post article. Here, eight main sentences from her 800-word article are reproduced:

  1. “Schoolgirls in headscarves have joined male agitators on the street.” Here, Kashmiri women’s dress item ‘headscarves’ is emphasised and they are said to have “joined” male agitators, presuming Kashmiri women do not organise protests independently. When located in the current global context of increased Islamophobia, a following inference can be drawn from the statement: headscarves-wearing women are religiously-inclined which presupposes they have been radicalised, hence they are protesting. In other words, Dutt seems to convey that schoolgirls are protesting because they have been radicalised and the evidence of their being radicalised is that they wear headscarves.
  2. “India’s human rights record in the landlocked valley was subjected to constant international scrutiny; Indian diplomats had to contend with uncomfortable questions on Kashmir.” Here, mitigation strategy is used: euphemisms like ‘record’ and ‘uncomfortable questions’ underplay the serious issue of human rights abuses in Kashmir. No statistics or representative cases about human rights abuses are cited.
  3. “This is despite recent controversies such as the Indian Army’s use of a local civilian, Farooq Ahmad Dar, as a human shield on a military jeep.” Here again mitigation strategy is used through the use of euphemistic term ‘controversies,’ because what is being termed as controversy is actually a war crime. Also, there is seemingly a deliberate omission about what international law says about human shield issue and how the majority of Indian public celebrated this war crime.
  4. “The bottom line: Kashmir is no longer an issue that Pakistan can get the world to take notice of.” Here, Kashmir conflict is not seen as an issue of political demands coming from Kashmiris themselves but as an issue which Pakistan is pushing.
  5. “The creeping radicalization of many young men agitating on Kashmir’s streets has also kept the world at bay.” Presupposition, nomination, and intensification strategies are used here: Islamist bogey is subtly raised; ‘agitating young men’ are presupposed to be ‘radicalised’ and they are not seen as social actors with varied political subjectivities. It potentially draws this inference: While as a non-Muslim can be a radical in a non-religious way (Communist etc., like Che Guevara), but radicalisation is not legitimate in relation to Muslims because Muslims being radical necessarily means being Islamist.
  6. “The more the next generation of Kashmir’s protesters become part of a global Internet “ummah,” invoking religion ahead of rights, the less the world is likely to engage with them.”
    Again, presupposition strategy is used, because it is presumed that next generation Kashmiris are invoking religion ahead of rights. And also, Kashmiri protestors are essentialized i.e., all Kashmiri protestors think, act and behave the same way.
  7. “Of course, none of this lightens India’s moral burden to be accountable to our own standards of democracy and human rights in Kashmir.” Presupposition and predication strategies are used here: ascribing a positive identity to India (democracy) and effectively obfuscating its colonial project and militarised occupation in Kashmir. The use of “our own standards” seems a deliberate attempt to distinguish between “international standards” and “India’s standards,” with the latter seemingly trying to rule out any Scotland type referendum in Kashmir. A sentence like “none of this lightens India’s moral burden to be accountable to international standards of democracy and human rights in Kashmir” would be qualitatively different.
  8. “There is no military solution, and India will have to develop a dialogue mechanism to talk to rage-filled, disenchanted Kashmiris.” Once again predication and nomination strategies are employed: ascribing negative attributes to Kashmiris through use of adverb ‘rage-filled.’ Use of a vague term like ‘disenchanted Kashmiris’ seeks to obfuscate the real political demands of Azadi which majority of Kashmiris have been raising.



First published by WithKashmir on 9 June 2017: http://withkashmir.org/2017/06/09/decoding-barkha-dutts-understanding-of-azadi-movement-in-kashmir/